The Temple of Salvation
by TheHallsOfMandos
Summary: Deep within Hogwarts, an enchanted chamber with untold secrets reveals itself once more. Meanwhile, as a new power rises from the shadows, the Death Eater menace seems to have met its match. The lines between good and evil have begun to blur, and Harry Potter finds himself in the midst. Starts in 6th year; complex, realistic characters and conflicts.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Despite the genres and the characters listed, this first chapter doesn't have much of that. This is essentially an introduction/prologue to the story, which might progress at a yet-to-determined pace. **

"At long last, we have arrived."

The waves crashed against the jagged rocks that lined most of the shore, rising up in momentous bursts before falling down and fading into mist. The day was in its infancy, but what little light came through the dense clouds had already reached its peak.

There was, however, a respite from the uncomfortably sharp and black rocks that surrounded the island. A small beach stood as the only place where any incoming ships could possibly hope to land. Straight ahead lay the first of a winding set of stairs painstakingly carved out of the island itself.

Two figures stood in the beach, gazing up at the pitch black stairs that awaited them.

"It would appear so. I..I just..." His voice wavered.

"Yes, my friend? You don't have to hesitate when talking to me." She spoked with a calm voice, and despite the fact that a hood covered her face, he could picture the kindness in her eyes. She looked away from him and towards the stairs, before continuing.

"It would be wise to alleviate any doubts before we ascend, for the task that we have come so far to receive will require the clearest of minds."

He sighed, but it was with an air of contentedness. "I've dreamt of this moment for a long time…but to see it so close, to see it just within my grasp...it's something I can barely wrap my head around."

She chuckled. "I myself find it hard to believe, but now we are here, and He awaits us."

And so they began their ascent.

Step by step, they carefully worked their way up, moving slowly to avoid slipping. Lining the sides of the stairs were large fires, eerily calm in the face of the blowing wind and thick fog.

After a few minutes of climbing, they arrived at the top of the stairs. The sight that awaited them was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

Ahead of them lay a large valley, surrounded by high peaks of the same black rock found near the beaches. Several buildings, which appeared to be watchtowers of a sort, were carved out of the side of the towering rock that marked the entrance to the valley. Upon the valley, a layer of dense, rolling fog had descended, seemingly swallowing waterfalls that poured over cliffs somewhere even higher up.

A small cobbled path hugged the mountainside, weaving past the watchtowers and leading to another, much smaller set of stairs. At the top of the stairs sat a castle, adorned by intricate pinnacles and spires. At its grand entrance, purple banners stood proudly, rippling with ferocity in the wind. One of the sides of the castle faced the great chasm that lay between the mountains, blending into the rock as it descended into the impenetrable fog.

The two travellers shared an awed glance despite not being able to see each other's eyes. Wordlessly, they began walking to the mountainside path. A childlike giddiness and fascination had overcome both of them as their eyes drank in the sights of the hidden island, the hidden valley and the hidden castle that was nestled within it.

They reached the entrance. A massive, ornate set of doors stood before them, covered in ominous yet grand tones of black and purple.

The only noises that could be heard were the howling of the wind as it swept between the mountains and the crackling of the large flames that stood guard on either side of the front of the castle.

For a moment, they were unsure. _Would knocking be polite…?_ But the doors had no intention of allowing them to do so, and gracefully swung open. Once the doors were fully open, a voice called out to them.

"We have been expecting you." The voice echoed through the grand hall calmly but with authority.

The majestic roof they had seen from afar was supported by huge Corinthian pillars. At the end of the hall stood a dark throne, surrounded by purple fires. A man sat on it, his face guarded by his hood, while his body was draped in smooth, white robes. He was in a reclined position, with an almost casual air, as he rested his head on the back, with his hands upon the arms of the throne.

Two masked figures stood on either side of the throne, standing stiffly as they remained turned towards the doors.

"Come forward, my loyal friends." The man on the throne spoke once again, his voice powerfully penetrating the near complete silence that hung over the room.

They began to walk forward in perfect synchronization, as if the man had put them in a trance. As they got within a short distance of the throne, they both kneeled and bowed their heads, waiting for their orders.

The man stood up and held out his hand to one of the masked figures left of the throne. The figure handed him two goblets. He took them into his hands and gracefully walked down the stairs of the dais. They remained with their heads bowed and in their kneeling position as he approached them.

"Look at me."

They raised their heads slowly, as if any sudden movements would result in their harm. He handed each of them a goblet.

They gingerly took the goblets, glancing at what they contained. A dark blue liquid sat in the goblets, swirling around as if it had a mind of its own.

"Drink."

At the same time, they raised the goblet to their lips and drank the liquid in one swig. Almost instantly, any tiredness they had from their journey disappeared, and they were filled with a calm, but potent energy.

"The fruits of your labour are almost within your grasp." The man spoke gently, his voice washing over them, their eyes flicking to his hooded face. "Your dreams shall be brought into reality."

They watched, eyes wide, hearts beating quickly.

"To have come so far is an accomplishment in itself. To be here is an honour of unimaginable proportions."

He began to pace around them, his footfalls echoing as he allowed his words to settle in.

"I know what intentions you have come here with, for we too have seen what you have seen."

His voice was behind them now, but they remained facing the throne, unmoving.

"I know how you, my loyal followers, have suffered at the hands of the 'pureblood' wizarding world," He growled, his voice slowly growing louder, sending shivers down their spines. "But no longer."

He was once again in front of them, and he glanced at them briefly before continuing.

"Brick by brick, stone by stone, we will rip apart the foundations of the cruel world that has cast us aside! No longer shall our sprits be crushed. No longer shall our minds be corrupted. NO LONGER SHALL WE STAND IDLY, WHILE OUR COMPATRIOTS SUFFER!" He roared, the fires flaring higher as his voice rang thick with emotion.

He gazed towards the still open doors, the air around him pulsating with magic. "The pureblood elite of our world shall fall, and we will take the reigns as its rightful rulers!"

His subjects remained fixated, shivering with anxiety and reverence at the same time.

"We will mend the broken relations between wizardfolk and the muggles, and alongside our brethren, we will usher in a new golden age for all!"

He took a deep breath, shuddering as he did. His voice had quieted, but the room still shook as his words settled in. "It has arrived…the greatest battle of our time has just begun."


	2. Chapter 2

The Greengrass estate were more than substantial, even by the standards of Wizarding Britain's elite. Somewhere near the back of the house, a winding stone path made its way through a beautiful garden. A plethora of different coloured flowers were grown close to the house, while larger shrubs and small but full-of-life trees were more common further down the path.

Somewhere along the path, a wooden swing was nestled in a small, shady alcove. It was an incredibly simple place, lined with vines and shrubs and small, thick trees casting shadows. It was, for lack of a better word, rather unremarkable. Yet it was one of Daphne's favourite spots in the entire estate.

It was quiet, relaxing and, best of all, basically hers. Her father and mother frequented the outdoor benches near the open fields and orchards on some other side of the house. Her sister preferred the solarium for winding down. This simple alcove was all hers.

She often came here when she needed to contemplate situations in her life. Today was one of those days.

Earlier in the day, a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ that was lying on a table in the family room had caught her attention. Through the years, many members of the British wizarding population, her family included, had realized that _The Daily Prophet_ was vastly sensationalist, but it was still the premier newspaper in the country. So, with great reluctance, her father subscribed to the newspaper to "view the world from the perspective of the common sheep", as he so kindly put it.

It often went ignored after her mother or father read it early in the morning, but over the summer, Daphne found she could no longer do that. Its large, aggressive news titles drew her attention, and the nature of the articles made her uneasy.

The Dark Lord had returned, and his followers were already being sighted more and more frequently. Occasional attacks peppered the summer months, but it was actually the sometimes weeks-long silence on the Dark Lord's movements only solidified the nervousness of the people.

She knew it was naïve, but when the news first came out she tried to reassure herself that the focus would be on more…controversial members of wizarding society and that her family would be relatively untouched.

Daphne held onto her beliefs, trying to convince herself. Until, of course, yesterday happened.

* * *

_It was early in the evening; almost dinnertime. It was slightly cloudy, but there was still a little light left in the sky. _

_They were near the edge of the open fields beside the house, very close to the dense forest that lay beyond it. High up on their brooms, they flew in the gentle wind. Daphne angled her broom upwards and she climbed higher in the air for a few seconds. As she straightened out, she surveyed the scene below her. _

_Her sister, Astoria, her light brown hair flowing as she flew gently. Her eyes were closed peacefully, occasionally fluttering open to ensure she was on course. A pleasant smile remained fixed on her face. Daphne couldn't help but feel joy at seeing her little sister so happy. _

_But, as usual, her own thoughts sought to ruin her mood. Her sister, in all her innocence, had somehow found herself with a crush on Draco Malfoy. Daphne's relationship with Draco was somewhat cordial, but the mere thought of him…sullying Astoria…_

_She remembered, of course, how Draco had acted in their previous year at Hogwarts. His arrogance, continuing on from his childhood, only grew more aggressive with the Inquisitorial Squad. She remembered how Astoria tried to get closer to him, tried to become his friend. He remained polite to her, of course, perhaps out of respect for Daphne, but he clearly didn't care for her. _

_With an inevitable war now on the horizon, Daphne wondered what Draco would do next. With his father in prison after the incident at the Department of Mysteries, he would have to back up his words on his own. _

_She paused for a second. Indeed, Lucius Malfoy was undeniably close to You-Know-Who if he was sent on such a risky mission. Would the Dark Lord expect Draco to take up his father's duties while he was…incapacitated? _

_The thought of Astoria being so close to the Dark Lord nearly brought tears to her eyes. She blinked rapidly, looking back down at her sister. _

_She was waving at her, yelling something. Daphne descended towards her. _

_"__Come on! We better get cleaned up before dinner." Astoria said, quieting as Daphne got closer. _

_"__Yes, you're right." She responded, before gesturing her to go down to the ground near one of the side entrances. _

_Astoria had landed, and was just about to head inside when Daphne spotted something. _

_"__Go inside; I'll be there in a minute!" She shouted, waiting for Astoria to nod and go inside before investigating. _

_A man was walking down the path to the main entrance, which was surrounded by tall shrubs and bushes. Father must have known, because the man was clearly allowed into the warded estate already. A visitor? At this time? Father was many things, and one of them was well-organized. As far as she knew, he didn't have any appointments today; he had told them so in the morning. And even if he had appointments that he didn't tell them about, this was not the usual time. _

_Keeping this in mind, Daphne gently descended to the ground behind the tall shrubs that guarded the walkway. He had approached the door and Daphne heard him knock twice once she had landed. As quietly as she could, she moved towards the front of the house and crouched near the bushes. _

_The door opened, and she heard her father speak. _

_"__Ah, Mr. Nott. It has been quite a while since we've last met, hasn't it?" Atticus Greengrass asked, his tone polite. _

_"__Indeed, Mr. Greengrass. It has been far too long." _

_"__Please, come inside. Would you like tea?" As her father and Nott went inside, Daphne's heart pounded. What was Nott doing here? _

_Their families were acquainted, obviously; an old pureblood family would never have missed an opportunity to befriend well-off families such as hers. But the Nott family hadn't visited in years, and Daphne could imagine a multitude of reasons. _

_The Notts were old, and decidedly dark. Quite involved in politics, their stance was pureblood supremacy, but that was not what made them dark. It was their secrets, their rumoured dark artifacts and their support of the most powerful dark wizard in the known world; Lord Voldemort. _

_The Greengrass family was traditionalist, there was no doubt about it. But so were many families who opposed the Dark Lord; the Ogdens and the Longbottoms came to mind. Perhaps Nott had found the Greengrasses too moderate for his liking._

_Nott was an intimidating man, and Daphne was sure he was one of the Dark Lord's most loyal servants. So why hadn't he been captured and sent to Azkaban with the rest of the higher ups? _

_She heard the door closing behind them and was jolted out of her thoughts. She would have to investigate later, once Nott had left and once her father came to dinner. _

_He never did. Astoria and Daphne ate in relative silence as soon as they noticed their mother. She barely spoke, her eyes focused far away, looking troubled. They had finished and Daphne and Astoria got up. As they walked towards the stairs, they saw their father closing the door behind Nott. _

_He sighed deeply before turning around. His face was a stoic mask, but when his eyes landed on them, he schooled his face into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Daphne noticed and narrowed her eyes, but before she could comment anything, her father scooped both of them into a hug. _

_"__I hope both of you enjoyed dinner?" He inquired half-heartedly. They nodded into his shirt. "I'm afraid I have some work to do; good night girls." His farewell for the night was filled with conviction and displayed none of the distractedness from his first question. He pressed a kiss on both of their heads and stepped away. _

_Daphne watched confusedly as he quickly retreated into his study._

* * *

Her father probably went to sleep late into the night, and wasn't awake when she came down to breakfast the next morning. When he had finally come down, Daphne saw him and her mother in a fierce, whispered conversation over their very late tea. After that, she had found herself in the alcove.

What could Nott have said that affected her father so much? She sighed. Whatever it was, it most likely had something to do with the Dark Lord, and none of that bode well.

She was broken out her thoughts by a voice calling to her. She looked up and saw her mother walking towards her.

"Come, Daphne. Father has called you to his study." Amara Greengrass spoke softly. Daphne took a deep breath and mentally steadied herself.

However bad the news was, however unfortunate the situation had become, Daphne had a duty. Whatever her family required of her in these dark times, she would do it. As members of the wizarding community found themselves at increasing odds, as neighbours began to turn against each other, family was all that remained certain.

* * *

**ToS**

* * *

Harry trudged up the stairs with his hands in his pockets. Quietly, he made his way to his room. Dudley opened his door and stomped out, an angry expression on his face.

_Oh. Simply wonderful. _

Despite his diet and working out over the past year, Dudley still had a massive frame. Harry couldn't see a way to possibly slip by him in the thin hallway. Closing his eyes and sighing, he waiting for the irate Dudley to pass him.

Dudley stopped stomping and looked at him. Harry merely looked back, expecting some sort of snide comment, or maybe a shove. But nothing came.

His face was no longer contorted in rage, and he looked as if he was about to say something. After a few seconds, he closed his mouth again. Harry tilted his head questioningly.

_Was Dudley feeling alright?_

Dudley blinked rapidly, before shaking his head almost imperceptibly. He walked off, much more subdued than before.

Bemused, Harry continued towards his room. Throwing open the door, he quickly threw himself onto his bed with a groan of frustration. Taking his glasses off, he placed them on the bedside table. He would finally get to leave 4 Privet Drive, but the thought only served to raise his spirits by the tiniest amount. Dumbledore was coming today to pick him up and he would get to go to the Burrow. Wallowing in misery with his friends sounded slightly better than doing so alone.

His summer so far had been long and dull, and it punished him in more ways than one.

When he didn't have chores to do, he had free time. And the long, searing days promised plenty of it. The more time he had to himself, with nothing to do, the more he thought.

Harry had begun to think far too much.

Remus Lupin was dead, and it was through Harry's own foolishness, his own _weakness_, that was the reason for it.

His mind flashed with images of their battle in the Department of Mysteries. He saw Remus trying to protect him, before falling into the veil. Harry remembered watching in horror, unmoving. Sirius' piercing cry shattering his stupor, and he remembered his body running. He remembered Bellatrix's laugh. He remembered her taunts. With an uneasy smile, he remembered her cries as he cast the Cruciatus on her.

Remus had a connection to Harry through his parents. Usually this would cause him a great deal of frustration. The idea of being a…continuation of sorts of his parents' friendships rubbed him the wrong way. It brought him back to the idea that his popularity and his relationships in the wizarding community were almost all due to something that he never consciously played a part in.

Yet with Remus, he never found this expected frustration. He was a kind man, a just man, and above all, a struggling man. Despite his personal problems, his presence was calming and his words wise. Harry, even in his third year, wished that Remus had come into his life earlier than he had. Just so that he could have spent more time to get to know such an amazing person.

He would never again get that chance.

Tears threatened to pool in his eyes, and he blinked them away rapidly before rubbing his eyes. Standing up abruptly, he realized he needed to stop this. Everyday, this same cycle of thoughts ran through his head, with the exact same result. He moved mindlessly to his desk

His brain, desperately tried to rationalize what was going on, tried to calm him down.

_At least it wasn't Sirius who died that night._

He stumbled back in shock. Where the hell had that come from?

Disgusted with his own thoughts, he very nearly slapped himself a couple of times. He needed something, _anything_, to get his mind off of the topic.

The school year, perhaps? Yes, of course! The school year. Harry was so excited, he was so excited, he was so excited…

A mirthless laugh escaped his mouth. As if. The weight of the world seemed to have been placed on his shoulder, and half of Wizarding Britain probably thought he was the Chosen One already. He didn't want to be chosen. He didn't want any of this.

_I don't have a choice_. He thought bitterly. He had tried to escape the thoughts over the summer; he spent time hanging out in the neighbourhood, trying to make new muggle friends. It helped a little, but he was finally reaching some sort of agreement in his head. Just temporary of course, he could never truly accept what he was supposedly destined to do. In the grand scheme of things, he felt hopeless and lost.

But there _had_ to be something he could do.

He had already lost Remus, in part due to his weakness. He had to be faster. He had to be stronger. He had to _better_.

As those phrases repeated in his mind, a strange resolve began to take over. There wasn't much he could do just yet, but he sighed and decided to do what he could. With his mouth set in a grim smile, he sat down at his table and took out some books. If he wanted to be strong enough to defend those he loved and to defeat Voldemort, learning more magic was not a bad place to start.

* * *

Harry stood on a small, forested hill overlooking the Burrow, with Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder. His mind was still spinning; partly due to the apparition, but mostly due to the fact that Dumbledore would be teaching him privately.

"Let us not keep Mrs. Weasley waiting any longer." Dumbledore said, and he began walking down a small, winding dirt path that twisted and turned to make its way down the hill. Harry followed, surprised at Dumbledore's pace.

They reached the back door, near the kitchen, and Dumbledore knocked.

Some shuffling movement was heard as a shadow made its way near the door.

"Who's there?" Mrs. Weasley asked nervously.

"Dumbledore, and I have Harry with me."

The door opened and Mrs. Weasley looked at them, beaming.

"Harry! How wonderful to see you again! Albus, I thought you said you wouldn't be here before morning?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Our discussion with Slughorn took far less time than I expected." Dumbledore said, nudging Harry to head inside.

"Of course, splendid!" Mrs. Weasley said distractedly as she fussed over Harry.

"Unfortunately, I must be off. I have some important matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour." Dumbledore announced. "I will be sure to come by in the next few days, Molly. Harry, take care."

With that, he bowed to Mrs. Weasley, waved to Harry and then walked a few metres. Another wave later, he had Apparated away.

One midnight onion soup and a lot of fussing later, Harry headed upstairs, changed into his pajamas, and promptly fell asleep in a happier mood than he had awoken earlier that day.

He awoke to the sound of the door slamming open and shuffling footsteps. His eyes fluttered open, but he immediately shut them in protest. The morning's light was golden and unflinching, and he just wasn't ready for that yet.

"Harry!" Ron Weasley's voice boomed as a shadow blocked out the sunlight from the window. Finally, Harry could open his eyes. Ron's grinning face stood over him, his red hair falling down his forehead.

"Hey Ron." Harry said as enthusiastically as he could in his still half-asleep state. Hermione stood behind Ron, a big smile on her face.

"How's it going?" He continued.

"Pretty good!" Ron responded. "What about you? I hope the Muggles weren't too bad?"

"Yeah, yeah. They were alright." Harry said, before pausing. "Actually, they were a lot better than usual this summer. Dudley didn't throw a tantrum about me even once." Ron's eyes widened. "Pretty weird, huh?" Harry grinned.

Hermione moved closer and peered at him curiously. Harry knew the reason, but he didn't press the subject because the topic of Remus probably wasn't the best to start the day. "Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Hermione blinked. "Oh, I'm fine. It's just great to be here, you know!"

Ginny came in the room just then. "Hey Harry!" She exclaimed, leaning on the doorframe.

Harry smiled at her. "How's it going, Ginny?"

She scowled for a brief second. "Alright, I suppose. But _she's_ here, and I can't stand it!"

Harry continued looking at Ginny. She looked frustrated about something, but appeared to be relatively at ease. As far as he knew, she had gotten over her childhood crush and could now hang around Harry like a normal person. Harry hoped it would stay this way; Ginny was a rather fun friend to be around.

After getting filled in as to who she was talking about, Harry caught up with Fleur Delacour briefly, much to the disappointment of Hermione and Ginny, before they all headed down to breakfast. OWLs results were supposed to come back, much to Hermione's fright, and they never got to finish their small talk by Harry's bedside.

And so began a relaxing week at the Burrow, in what was probably the best possible way he could've ended the summer.

It was great spending time with his friends. He had something to take his mind off of the painful thoughts he had been going through at the Dursleys, and it felt as if a weight had been slightly lifted from his chest. In between spending time with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, he also tried to spend some time with Fleur as well. She was delighted, of course; they had gone through a lot together after all, and she was more than willing to become friends again.

Hermione and Ron were, frankly, getting on his nerves. Not either one of them individually, but rather the two of them together. They would be acting normally, perhaps even closer then previous years, before some ridiculous argument erupted and they fumed at each other for the next few hours. Often times the arguments would stem from something as stupid as the topic of Fleur. Merely her existence seemed to bother Hermione and Ginny, and Ron still defended her. Harry hoped that Ron's defence of Fleur was out of goodwill, but Harry knew well how Ron got when he was around the quarter-Veela.

Of course, another such argument had happened, so Harry escaped the room and was just about to head downstairs when he heard voices. They seemed to be coming from the living room, so he crept halfway down the stairs.

He could hear Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley talking, but they didn't seem to be trying to hide their conversation; perhaps they expected all the children to be on the fifth floor in Ron's room.

"Indeed, it would seem as if the Ministry has no choice now but to acknowledge there is a yet unknown force at odds with them!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed.

Dumbledore sighed. "If only, Arthur, if only. I'm sure there are some, high up in the Ministry, who suspect that _we_ could have been the ones behind the attack."

"Us!?" another voice exclaimed. _Sirius!_ Harry was shocked. When had all of them even come to the Burrow? They must have just arrived, because Harry hadn't heard anything until now. He would have to wait until after their discussion to see Sirius again, but knowing he was already here made waiting quite difficult.

He had hoped to see Sirius sooner, but Mrs. Weasley had told him about some issues about Grimmauld Place. It had been used as the headquarters for the Order last year, but Dumbledore had found dark artifacts and dark magic permeating the house, and Dumbledore didn't want the children staying in such a dangerous location. The Weasleys offered the Burrow as a temporary headquarters for the Order until a more suitable location could be found, but Sirius, for whatever reason, wanted to stay in Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer.

Harry could definitely understand. He knew firsthand the painful memories of Remus that he relived over the summer, and he was sure it would be much, much worse for Sirius. They were close friends for so many years, and Sirius found himself as the last Marauder now. He wanted to be alone, even if it wasn't what he needed. Harry had asked Dumbledore, of course, to visit Grimmauld Place, but he had insisted that it was unsafe for the time being.

"Scrimgeour and I met a few days ago," Dumbledore spoke after a short silence. "It would seem that he is steadfast in fighting the Death Eaters, but he announced that the public would have to understand that the Ministry had it under control."

"Pathetic." Sirius growled.

"Another Ministry propaganda campaign, I suppose?" Mr. Weasley asked rhetorically.

"As much as I would like to fight with Scrimgeour on this, I believe that his words hold _some _truth to them." Dumbledore said. "He never approved much of me, but deep down, both he and I understand that we need each other as allies in these difficult times."

"What are the details of the attack, Albus?" Sirius asked tiredly. "I haven't heard anything until now."

"There is an office in Diagon Alley, _a_ foreign law firm I believe; quite well known in their field. There were two Ministry officials there, for reasons that I'm not quite sure myself." Dumbledore began. "I don't know what they had gotten into, or why they were targeted, but reports say a man wearing a mask and purple robes stormed in. His regalia was marked with something that looked like a bird. He cast a non-verbal spell, and of the three other people in the room, two were able to get shields up in time. The third…did not have such luck. There was an explosion; the masked man escaped within seconds. By the time the guards arrived, one of the Ministry officials was dead."

There was a long pause.

"Who…?" someone whispered, but Harry paid them no heed. He quietly sped back up the stairs and pressed himself against the wall, his thoughts racing. Something in Dumbledore's report sounded remarkably familiar…

* * *

_Harry's shoulder crashed into the wall as he turned the corner. _

_"__Watch where you're going, Dudley!" he hissed, his right hand massaging his left shoulder. Dudley didn't respond, his face deathly pale. His cousin had stopped running but made no move to help Harry in his state. Groaning, Harry pushed himself to his feet and his eyes wandered around their surroundings. _

_They were at the entrance of an underpass just at the edge of one of the trails in the park. He quickly glanced behind him but there was no sign of the dementors yet. There was no time to wonder about why there were dementors in Little Whinging right now, and Harry forced his mind away from the idea. _

_The sudden darkness that had taken over just minutes prior was permeated by the lights in the underpass, but the terrible chill that had descended with the dementors was coming back. _

_The wind was pick up again. "Come on!" Harry shouted. "We have to go NOW!" _

_Dudley was jolted back into motion when he said this and both of them started to run, going farther into the underpass. His cousin was breathing heavily beside him; but whether it was from pure fear or the running, Harry wasn't sure. His own heart was beginning to calm down, for the chill had decreased. _

Perhaps the fact that two dementors left Azkaban was noticed and they were called back._ He thought, as relieved as he could be with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. Whatever had happened, it didn't matter…unless they came back, of course. Harry exhaled a deep breath he didn't know he was holding. Now all he had to do was to get back to the Dursley's house without arousing any suspicion._

_In the next second, those hopes were dashed. A gust of biting wind flooded into the pass, slamming into them and pushing them back. Harry staggered against the wind and looked over to see that Dudley had stuck his hand into a small crack in the wall to remain on his feet. His ears stung and his hands had begun to shake, but the wind kept coming. _

_And then followed the dementors. A horrifying cry, somehow deafening and like a whisper at the same time, echoed through the halls as they entered. He heard the screams in his head as he staggered backwards blindly, trying to grasp his wand. _

_The ghastly hand of the dementor closed around his throat, lifting him up. Harry struggled against its grip, but it was no use. With another cry, he was flung towards the wall. Still upright, his back collided painfully against the side of the pass and before he could even think again the dementor had glided towards him and locked him another strangling hold. _

_As he was forced to look into the dementor's hood, he saw its face. Under the black hood, its face seemed to alternate from the void itself to a horrid skull, shifting in ways bones should never be able to do. It dipped its hood and began to move closer to his face. _

_This was it. It was over, and he would never again see those close to him ever again. Ron. Hermione. Sirius. His eyes began to flutter as the screaming in his head became overwhelming and the Dementor began its kiss… _

_A brilliant light burst forth from the opening of the underpass. A large mass of glowing feathers and wings shot into the dementor, digging its talons into the dementor's body. It fled desperately at the sight of the patronus, the black, tattered robes flying wildly in its haste. The second dementor caught sight of the ethereal light and immediately let go of Dudley, flying out of the underpass as quickly as they could. _

_Harry fell onto the ground hard once the dementor released its stranglehold on him, but he had never felt so glad in his life. He looked at Dudley, who had curled up in a ball and was muttering incomprehensible whimpers. _

_His relief disappeared just as quickly as it had come. Harry hadn't cast his patronus, and Dudley was just a muggle…so who did? _

_His head whipped around fast, and he saw a witch, their face obscured by a mask. She wore long, purple robes, with what appeared to be a sparrow emblazoned on her breast. Her wand was still out, and Harry's eyes immediately went wide. He spotted his own a few feet to the right of him, and he quickly rolled to grab it and stood up shakily. _

_"__Do not worry, my friend. I mean you no harm." she spoke gently, as if speaking to a small child. _

_Trying to stand as upright and steadily as possible, he boldly called out. "Who are you and what do you want?" _

_"__Harry Potter," he could hear her predatory smile from her tone. "You have a larger role to play than you believe." _

_He blinked, vastly confused. "Er..what?" _

_"__I will be completely honest with you, Mr. Potter. I saved you from a fate worse than death," she began solemnly. "Because I believe that we have common enemies and common goals. But above all, I saved you because you are important. You are important to our world and you are important to our cause."_

_Harry grew even more confused, and slightly more scared. "What are you talking about?"_

_She bowed her head and continued. "You came into the wizarding world on your eleventh birthday, with an open mind and a fresh perspective. But when you arrived, you saw it for what it truly is. A backward, prejudiced hellhole." _

_Harry stood still, his mind racing. _

_"__There are many of us, Mr. Potter. People like you. People who have seen the injustices in our world and have lost all hope. In the end, we saw the truth. This world needs to be fixed, and standing by, twiddling our thumbs, will not help accomplish that." _

_Harry could barely think of anything to say as he involuntarily thought back to his experiences with wizarding Britain and its society. "The wizarding world, no matter what you think of it, has been more of a home to me than the muggle world has ever been." he spat bitterly. _

_"__Perhaps, Mr. Potter. Perhaps. But in the end, you will open your eyes to what is truly happening. I want you to think for a moment. I'm sure you've already wondered why dementors came to Little Whinging. Remember who controls the dementors, Mr. Potter; it is the Ministry." she reminded him. "The oligarchs in the elite of our society will become restless with time, and don't even think for a moment that they won't turn against you next." _

_She turned around and began walking away suddenly. After walking a few metres, she turned around on the spot. _

_"__Think about what I have said, Mr. Potter. For one day, when all hope is lost, you will always be welcome to join us and salvage what remains of this decadent world." _

_With that, she Apparated away, leaving a stunned Harry Potter in her wake._

* * *

His mind made the connection as he thought back to the summer before fifth year. The words his saviour had spoken had stuck with him ever since, nestling in some part of his mind and urging him to act on them. He quelled the thoughts by convincing himself that she couldn't have told him the full story, but he couldn't ignore the words, or the warning, any longer. Whoever she worked for, they were growing in strength, and were now bold enough to attack Ministry officials.

The Death Eaters were on their doorstep, and now a new group had announced their presence. Wizarding Britain was in for one of the greatest battles of its time, and Harry Potter was sure he would be on the frontlines.

The future looked bleak, and a long night seemed to be descending on the wizarding world.

**AN: There were some canon scenes in this chapter that I tried to gloss over as much as possible without breaking the flow because, well, no one wants to read the same things over again. **

**Also a note regarding formatting in the story: I intend to use single line-breaks to discern between two events that remain with the same POV character. Meanwhile, two line-breaks divided by a "ToS" (the name of the story) will show when the POV changes. **


	3. Chapter 3

The stairs of the Burrow creaked as Sirius walked up to the second floor, where Arthur had mentioned Harry was staying. He leaned over the uneven wooden railing and peered up. Only a few more stairs to go.

He started again, his thoughts returning to their unexpected conversation. Sirius had just arrived at the Burrow with the intention of spending some time with his godson, but Dumbledore had appeared with important information, so he had waited. They had a quick discussion, before Dumbledore had insisted on leaving; he had other matters to take care of. The other Order members would have to be informed soon as well, so Sirius guessed that was probably what Dumbledore had gone to do. With the news they had been given, both Arthur and Sirius had plenty to think about, and Arthur had retreated to his office on the third floor with Molly.

Shortly after, Sirius found himself on the second floor. He knocked on the door to Fred and George's room.

"Come in!" a shout came from inside. Sirius turned the knob and pushed the door open. Harry lay in bed, peering over the top of his book. When he Sirius, his face broke into a wide smile. Shutting his book, he placed it on the bedside table and got up.

Sirius couldn't help but grin in return. He engulfed Harry in a big hug, with Harry returning it eagerly.

"Sirius! It's great to see you again." Harry exclaimed, releasing him from his embrace.

"Too right, Harry. How've you been?" Sirius replied. Harry's face faltered for a second, but it was back to normal within the blink of an eye.

"Well, I _did_ have to go back to the Dursleys at the start of summer, so you know how that was," Harry rolled his eyes. "But I was only there a fortnight, which was amazing; the less time at Privet Drive, the better."

Sirius chuckled. "Good to hear. The Burrow's been alright, I expect?"

"Of course! It's great to be back here, you know." Harry said, but then winced. "Well, uh, it's not all that great…Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley all seem to _really _not like Fleur."

Sirius grimaced. "That must be difficult; I hope you've been keeping Fleur some company when Bill's busy. However, I can see where they're coming from. I mean, hating her doesn't make much sense, but being jealous of her? You've seen it for yourself how a lot of guys act around her."

Harry shrugged. "I guess you're right…I just wish they'd lay off of her for just a little bit."

Sirius nodded, before looking at Harry again. He looked like he was about to say something, but decided against it at the last moment.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Sirius asked, concerned.

Harry stopped his slight fidgeting and looked back at Sirius. An internal battle appeared to be going on in his head.

"Sirius, how…how have you, you know, been holding up?" Harry asked, looking directly at his eyes.

Sirius couldn't help it; his smile dropped slightly, and it no longer reached his eyes. "I can't really lie to you, Harry. It's been pretty tough, spending my days at Grimmauld Place, waiting for the Ministry to pardon me," he made sure his face appeared a little bit brighter. "But my summer has gotten much, _much_ better, Harry, after seeing you again."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, but he seemed to accept the answer after he swallowed nervously. Perhaps Harry had a similar thought process to his own.

_Leave the misery for when there's nothing else to do._

Sirius motioned for Harry to sit on the bed and Sirius sat on a small stool that stood beside the bed.

"On to your sixth year at Hogwarts, eh? Excited?"

"Honestly, Sirius, yeah, I think I am. I wouldn't have said the same a week or so ago, because I was at the Dursleys and all there was to do was-" Harry paused, his breath hitching. His eyes flickered away for a second, before returning. "Well, anyway. It's been great at the Burrow, you know. Its really got me back in the mood for magic and that."

Sirius knew what Harry had been about to say, but didn't dwell on the subject. "Look, Harry…you're going to Hogwarts, and I know you have had quite the unorthodox experience, but you _should_ be having fun, so…try and take it easy this year, yeah? Lay low a bit maybe, play some Quidditch, get in some broom closets. That kind of stuff."

Harry cracked a smile at the last sentence. "Yeah, I'll try. But you know how it is; I don't _look_ for trouble, it just…happens to find me." He finished lamely.

Sirius sighed. "So I've noticed. When I say lay low, I mean you should focus on your studies too. No matter what everyone thinks of it, war's coming to our world, and you need to be ready. As much as I hate to say this, you're going to have a role to play in this war, whether we like it our not."

"You're right. I realized the same thing when I was at the Dursleys. Sure, people say I'm the Chosen One or something, but I've escaped far too many life-threatening situations with dumb luck. I _need_ to get better." Harry said firmly. Sirius could see the resolve in his eyes.

"You're very powerful, Harry. Never forget it. And you're my godson. I wish I could help you train, help you protect yourself, but…" Sirius trailed off, his voice wavering.

"Well, you're officially pardoned now, aren't you? We'd have the whole Christmas holidays for that!" Harry grinned.

Sirius laughed. "Somehow, I keep on forgetting about that, but you're right. I just hope I can figure out the problem with Grimmauld Place before Christmas so that we can go there together again." He stood up suddenly and clapped his hands together. "Now, enough of this depressing talk. What do you say we go out for some flying?"

Harry smile widened, and he leapt to his feet.

* * *

**ToS**

* * *

The smoke billowed majestically out of the train, its whistles and creaks and grunts signalling the start of another year at Hogwarts.

In previous years, it had been both a jovial and bittersweet atmosphere; excited first years eagerly awaiting their Hogwarts experience and anxious parents having to watch their children leave for months on end.

There was no such atmosphere today. A foreboding mood hung over the parents, as they watched their children board with frowns and tears. The older students were somber, their hearts heavy and worried. The younger ones had caught on, and the suffocating air had taken a hold of them as well.

Harry stood still, his eyes fixated on the bright red of the engine, but his mind somewhere else. Another year at Hogwarts, but for some reason, Harry found himself feeling a strange combination of things. Although he was excited, above all he was nervous, and for a multitude of reasons.

He remembered what he had seen on their trip to Diagon Alley. Malfoy's suspiscous activities in Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley had reminded Harry to keep an eye on Malfoy throughout the year. He vividly remembered his battle with Lucius Malfoy and the rest of the Death Eaters last year, and was sure his son would be sent down the same path.

Sirius and he had talked after Harry overheard their conversation a few days ago, and he was extremely glad to see him again. At first, it was painful for both of them because of the memories of Remus, but Sirius seemed eager to hide his grief for the time he was with Harry. He even spent a few days at the Burrow before Harry would have to leave for Hogwarts, and Harry was immensely grateful.

Harry heard the rest of the Weasley family coming through to the platform behind him, Mrs. Weasley's hurried shouts and orders to her kids echoing loudly against the rest of the subdued families. He saw plenty of looks towards them, ranging from curious to annoyed to hateful. But when their eyes wandered from the collection of redheads and towards Harry, they began furiously whispering.

He closed his eyes and let loose a low sigh. Opening his eyes again, he saw a family with two young children, probably first or second years, walking past him. Their eyes were glued on him until they saw another figure standing near him. A grim-faced Auror stood on watch, eyeing the family warily. They hurried along, their heads held low.

The platform was swamped with a lot more law enforcement than Harry had ever seen before. The Aurors were the most elite troops the Ministry had, and they were probably needed for more active threats across the country. As a result, only a few Aurors appeared to be on the platform. However, there was a huge Hit Wizard presence; Harry was sure there were at least several dozen in his line of sight.

He sensed the presence of people beside him, and he glanced to his side. Ron and Hermione had escaped Mrs. Weasley's fussing, and were looking at the Hogwarts Express with varying degrees of trepidation.

"This doesn't feel right." Ron said bluntly, a frown on his face as his eyes wandered across the platform.

No one responded to that because, frankly, they didn't need to. They all felt it, and the mood had already begun to worm its way into their minds.

A whistle sounded from the train as most of the students had already boarded.

"We should get on and find a compartment quickly," Harry said, and he began moving towards the doors of the train.

"Sorry, Harry, but we've got to go the prefect's meeting first and then do our rounds." Hermione mumbled apologetically.

"Right, sorry, I forgot. Well, we should get going anyway." Harry said glumly, and they hurried towards the Express.

Before the door closed, Mrs. Weasley shouted her goodbyes to all of them, while Mr. Weasley waved with a pleasant smile. Harry waved back, yelling back assurances that indeed, he would take care and see them again during the Christmas holidays.

As Ron and Hermione hurried off to the prefect's carriage, Harry looked for the rest of his friends. Ginny had already disappeared; she had told them that she was going to meet Dean. Alone, and without a compartment, Harry trudged through the corridor, trying to ignore the awestruck expressions on the faces of students as they noticed him. Some of the younger ones, throwing all politeness to the side, pressed their noses against the windows of their compartments as they followed his every move. Increasing his pace, he hurried through the corridor.

"Harry!" a voice shouted eagerly behind him. Harry whirled around and saw Neville's round face beaming at him.

"Hey Neville!" Harry grinned back, greeting his friend with a one-armed hug. Behind him was Luna, who smiled brightly at him, her long, blonde hair bouncing behind her as she walked.

"Hi, Luna!"

"Hi, Harry!" Luna replied, before blinking. "Why is everyone starting at us?"

Neville chuckled. "Well, you've been keeping up with the _Prophet_, right? Have you seen what they've been saying about Harry?"

Luna looked at him, with the most offended expression that she could hope to muster. It looked quite unnatural on her, and it was clear her face was eager to return to its usual, serene state.

"Are you daft?" Luna remarked, but there was no real anger in her tone.

Neville and Harry looked at each other before bursting out in laughter. "I'm sorry, Luna. I forgot that you…don't like _The Daily Prophet_. Everyone thinks Harry's the Chosen One now, and they're making a big deal out of it," Neville answered once he had gone through the last of his chuckles. "Change their minds bloody quickly though, don't they." he muttered the last part under his breath, but Harry had heard him and rolled his eyes in agreement.

"Of course. He is, isn't he? But no, Neville, they're looking at us too!" Luna insisted. Neville blinked, before pausing and looking to the compartment beside him. Every student inside turned away from him with breakneck speed.

"You guys were in the paper too, you know, after we escaped the Department of Mysteries." Harry pointed out.

Luna tilted her head in thought and nodded, but Neville didn't look too enthused about it. "Let's get out of here!"

They eventually did find an empty compartment, and Harry helped put Luna and Neville's trunks up.

Harry glanced at Neville; his friend had clearly become more confident over the past year, and you could hear it in his voice. He was telling Luna about his new wand, and he showed Harry as well.

Harry went to close the compartment door, but he peeked out into the corridor just to see if anyone else was there. He saw Seamus, who was animatedly discussing something with Dean, before Dean clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared back into a compartment. Seamus turned around and saw Harry, and his face broke into his typical grin.

"Harry! How're you doing, mate?" Seamus said as he moved towards them.

Harry grinned back. "Pretty good! Come on, join us. We've got space in our compartment!"

Harry popped back inside while Seamus joined them. He greeted Neville warmly, but Seamus wasn't exactly friends with Luna. Nonetheless, he greeted her as politely as Seamus possibly could and he sat down beside Harry.

Harry closed the compartment door before looking at his friends. Luna had taken out a magazine and was reading it intently, while Neville and Seamus were discussing their summers.

Seamus was quite the interesting case. Harry remembered their fight in the common room early last year, when Seamus didn't believe him about Voldemort's return. But Seamus had realized the error of his ways, and had profusely apologized when he found out. Near the end of last year, both Dean and Seamus had grown closer to Harry, Ron and Neville.

Harry knew that his best friends would always be Ron and Hermione, but it was always nice to have more friendly faces by his side.

The gradual inclusion of Neville, and then Dean and Seamus into their friend group had caused Harry to wonder about the others. There were three other sixth year Gryffindor boys in their dorm; Edmund Gladstone, Duncan Harlow and Bertram Remington. They were always cordial with the others, perhaps even friendly, but they ran in different circles. Harry couldn't help but wonder how his life would be today if he befriended Edmund in his first year instead…

"Harry?" Neville's voice broke him out of his musings. Harry looked at him and waved his concern away.

"Sorry, I was thinking about something. What were you saying?" Harry asked.

"I was wondering what was going to happen to the DA. I know Umbridge is gone now and all, but…" Neville said.

Harry smiled a little at the memories. "I don't think we need it anymore, Neville. We're probably going to have a better teacher for Defense now."

"That's a shame, really," Seamus began. His eyes flickered away when Harry looked at him; he seemed to be nervous about something. With a sigh, he continued. "I know I was a right arse about all of this, and I joined the DA later than everyone else, but it was bloody useful. You were a good teacher, Harry."

He knew this was a touchy subject with Seamus. He was still ashamed about his actions from last year, although Harry had assured him there was no hard feelings between them. The fact that Seamus, despite his feelings on the topic, still had such high praise for him gave Harry a warm feeling of pride.

With slightly reddened cheeks, Harry replied, "Thanks Seamus, but I'm sorry guys; I'll have to see. Whatever the decision is, you lot will know first."

"I enjoyed being a part of the DA too," Luna said, her voice floating through the compartment. "It was like having friends."

She was still invested in her magazine, and didn't seem to be expecting a response. Harry, Neville and Seamus looked at each other, shifting uncomfortably.

"Oh yeah, Harry! Did you hear what the Montrose Magpies did?" Seamus asked hastily.

"I read about the investigation into the source of their funds over the summer." Harry answered, relieved by the distraction.

Seamus shook his head. "Oh, that. That'll get resolved quickly enough. More importantly…guess who they signed?"

Harry leaned forward in his seat. "Who?"

Neville looked confused. "I didn't hear about any signings. When did it happen?"

"This morning! They signed Alasdair bloody Maddock!" Seamus exclaimed.

Neville's eyes widened. "No way." he whispered reverently.

"Wow! Wait a second," Harry's brow furrowed. "Isn't he a total nutter?"

"You bet he is! I just wish the Kestrels had got him first. How did you guys _not_ hear about it? Even Dean did!" Seamus said.

"Where is Dean, anyway?" Neville asked, looking around as if expecting him to appear out of thin air.

Seamus made a face. "Locking lips with Ginny, I'd reckon."

For some reason, Harry felt the slightest pang of regret at his words. That could've been him in Dean's place, if he had just been receptive to her feelings…

_Absolutely not._ He squashed the thought in his mind. Sure, Ginny had turned into a very attractive witch, but Harry knew that he didn't have any real feelings towards her. Relieved, he tuned back into the conversation.

Neville snorted. "Be glad Ron hasn't heard about that yet."

Seamus paled. "I sure hope that he doesn't take out his anger on Dean…"

"Hey, if Ron does something stupid like that, we'll talk to him together, alright? He might be a prick, but he's _our _prick."

Just as he had closed his mouth, the door to the compartment slid open and Ron and Hermione chose that moment to appear. The three boys straightened and tried to act like nothing was just said, but Ron didn't seem to notice.

"I'm famished, where's the lunch cart?" Ron demanded, dropping into the seat beside Harry. "Hi, Luna. Hi, Neville. Hi, Seamus." He fired off in quick succession.

They chorused their greetings back to him and Hermione as well. Ron turned back to Harry. "Malfoy wasn't doing his prefect duty, by the way. He was just sitting in his compartment with his friends."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you believe that theory of Harry's now? This isn't enough to count as proof."

Ron seemed unsure, as he looked between Harry and Hermione. "I don't know, I just thought Harry would want to know." he said with a shrug.

Harry threw an exasperated look at Hermione. "Listen, I know it seems far-fetched, but-"

Whatever he was about to say was abruptly cut off by another person opening the compartment door and sticking their heads in.

A girl, who looked like she was in third year, came in panting and holding two scrolls of parchment. "These are for Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom." With that, she handed them the scrolls, and dashed out of the door.

"What the hell?" Ron blinked. "What does it say?"

Harry and Neville both unrolled theirs. "It's an…invitation?" Harry said, confused.

"What does he want us for? I know he's the new Potions professor, but even I can't mess up Potions enough to be in trouble _already_!" Neville groaned. Harry and Ron glanced at each other and chuckled.

"Who knows? Speaking of which, maybe I should take the Cloak with me. I can check up on Malfoy after we do whatever Slughorn wants." As Harry got up to leave, their compartment door flew open again. He was sure that if it opened one more time in the next minute, it would fly straight off of its hinges.

"Hey, everyone!" Dean said, a grin on his face. He looked at Harry and Neville, who were already standing. "Where are you going?"

Harry grimaced. "The new Potions professor wants to see us for something."

Dean looked at them sympathetically. "Oh, good luck with that then."

"Where have you been all this time?" Ron asked, confused.

Dean looked around before gesturing at himself. "Who, me?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you. Who else would I be talking about?"

Hermione poked Ron. "You already know where he was! Don't you remember where Ginny said she was going to be once she got on the train? She said she was going to meet Dean."

Harry, Neville and Seamus shared a look. This wasn't going to end well.

"Dean is quite enamoured with her. I find it quite cute, if I say so myself." Luna added thoughtfully.

Ron turned towards to Dean, very, _very_ slowly. "Is that so?" Neville and Seamus were shaking with barely controlled laughter, while Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's tone.

Harry caught Seamus' eyes and grinned, before grabbing Neville's arm and pulling him out of the compartment. "Come on, let's get out of here before Ron explodes."

They walked through the corridor, once again subject to countless glances and hushed whispers. As they approached the toilets, Harry motioned for Neville to go on and that he would meet him at Slughorn's compartment.

Once he came out, Neville was nowhere in sight, so Harry assumed he had already gone. He began making his way towards the compartment. A few paces away from where he was walking, he saw Cho. Debating whether or not to acknowledge her existence, his hand began to move up to wave, but she had already caught sight of him. She dashed into her compartment, and when Harry passed by, he saw she was discussing something intensely with Marietta with their heads stuck together.

He decided to ignore the whole situation and continued walking. However, any lingering thoughts he might've had were gone as soon as he made it to the next car.

Daphne Greengrass was pressed against the wall beside a compartment, her arms hanging limp by her sides and she looked like she was nervously waiting for someone. Despite all of that, Harry couldn't help but notice.

_When did she become so damn stunning? _

He snorted at his own thought. As if he hadn't noticed her before; nearly every male in their year, if not their upperclassmen too, knew who she was. But seeing her this close…

She had silky, blonde hair that went just past her shoulders. Her face was sharp and her jawline clearly defined, with a slightly upturned nose. And, of course, who could forget her eyes; a piercing, beautiful blue.

Unfortunately, his snort alerted her to his position, and she turned her troubled gaze to him. Instead of her face twisting into loathing, as he expected any good Slytherin to, she seemed to be looking at him in confusion, with a slight blush on her face. Harry couldn't tell if it was because she got caught doing…whatever she was doing or the fact that the "Chosen One" was looking at her.

"What do you want, Potter?" Daphne asked, holding her eyes steadfast against his own.

"Just wondering if you were alright, Greengrass. You looked a little troubled there." Harry responded, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up his neck.

She seemed surprised by his answer, but the only way he could tell was by the slight quirking of her eyebrows. "I'm touched that you care so much, Potter." Daphne said sarcastically.

Harry couldn't help a small grin from reaching his face. Now that was more like it. "Hey, we've been classmates for how many years now? 5? I think I'm allowed a little bit of care for my most esteemed peers."

Daphne's lips curved in a tiny smile; it was barely noticeable, but it was there.

Suddenly, the door to the compartment door beside them was bumped by someone inside, and Daphne jumped. She hurried into the corner of the carriage they were in and crouched.

Harry looked around, vastly confused. "What's wrong?"

Daphne pleaded him with her eyes, mouthing, "Go away!"

Harry looked at the compartment door, which had begun to slide open, but the person inside seemed to be talking with someone as they left. He turned back to Daphne.

"Are you hiding from someone?" Harry asked. She thought for a second before nodding frantically.

Harry, seized by a sudden idea, crouched down beside her and pushed himself against the wall in their corner. Grabbing the Cloak of Invisibility, he flung it around the two of them, and it was just in time too.

A girl came out of the compartment, and Harry noticed that her facial features looked rather similar to Daphne's, but her hair was brown instead. She walked by them without a glance.

Daphne let out an audible sigh, and they waited a minute or so before Harry checked if the corridor was clear. Quickly, he stuffed the cloak back in his bag.

Harry turned to Daphne, who was smoothing her robes. "Was that your sister?"

Her eyes snapped up to him, and she nodded. "Very astute, Potter. Thank you, by the way."

Deciding not to press the issue, he gave her a simple nod.

Her eyes trailed down to his hands, where he still held the scroll in his hand.

"It would appear that you received an invitation to lunch with Professor Slughorn as well."

Harry saw that she held the same parchment that he had received earlier. He didn't know what had taken hold of him in that moment, but he boldly proclaimed, "Good to know I'll have a friendly face with me, then!"

"Oh, shut up. Now are you coming or not?" her cheeks were slightly pink, and Harry had to avert his eyes to calm down his suddenly racing heartbeat.

Without another comment, she spun on her heel and began marching towards Slughorn's compartment. Harry shook his head with a smile as he made to follow her.

* * *

**ToS**

* * *

With a resounding pop, Sirius appeared in front of 12 Grimmauld Place. A heavy rain had begun over London, and it hammered the street with no mercy. With a quick glance around, he saw the neighbourhood was completely empty, with everyone holed up in their homes, waiting out the storm. He hurried through the door.

As the shut the door and locked it behind him, he leaned back against it with a deep sigh. Another year, and another long wait to see his godson again.

Of course, he was in a much better position to visit Harry than any time since their reunion; the Ministry had seen that Voldemort had indeed returned, and saw that Dumbledore had fought him. Dumbledore's word was even more powerful than usual in the following weeks, and he told Cornelius Fudge the truth about Pettigrew's "murder". Fudge knew his time as Minister was coming to an end, especially with the official press release regarding Voldemort's return.

The wizarding community called for his immediate resignation, but in addition to other last-minute administrative dealings, Fudge officially announced that Sirius Black was innocent. Perhaps he had done it to save what little face he had left. Perhaps he had done it because, deep down, he had something of a conscience. Sirius didn't care much for the reason, he was just glad that the truth had come out.

He had hoped that his pardon from the Ministry would ease his thoughts, but it didn't do much to get him out of his withdrawn state. He was a free man now; he could make his own decisions and he could go anywhere he wanted. So why did he feel as empty as he did?

Oh, he knew the reason perfectly well. The mere thought of Remus still devastated him, even after having the entire summer to replay the painful memory of his death. Remus and he had grown apart over the years, owed in part to the fact that Sirius was…preoccupied by his imprisonment in Azkaban. Remus probably assumed Sirius would rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life and there was nothing he could do. As a result of these events, Remus was a far cry from the spirited boy from Hogwarts. James was dead, Sirius had been imprisoned, Peter had betrayed them, and Remus was still a werewolf. Sirius couldn't blame him for becoming as reserved as he had.

Sirius didn't have to spend the rest of his life behind bars, thankfully. They had finally begun to have a return to normality, with the two of them growing closer together to their Hogwarts days' friendship. And then, just as it had come, it had all been taken away from them.

Another deep sigh followed, and Sirius pushed himself off from the door and made his way to the kitchen. He was sure it was going to be a long night, whether he liked it or not, so he resigned to prepare early.

He moved to the dusty cabinets and crouched down, opening one of the lower ones. Grabbing a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky, he set it on the table. After retrieving a glass, he took the bottle and walked towards the drawing room. The stairs were dimly lit, with long shadows being cast across them by the flickering gas lamps. His heavy footfalls echoed against the total silence in the house.

He pushed open the large door to the drawing room. There was a layer of dust on nearly everything in the room. Several of the glass doors to the large cabinet were shattered. The carpet and the walls were peeling in places. Yet despite all of this, Sirius could only think one thing.

_It's still beautiful. _

The room had lost much of the grandeur that it had once held, but to Sirius it was much more than that. Sure, he never agreed with the views of the Black family, but it was hard not to admire their taste.

He sunk into the discoloured sofa, setting the glass on the table and pouring a generous amount of firewhisky into his glass. The orange liquid filled up half of the glass before Sirius set the bottle aside. Picking up the glass, he took a sip, relishing the burning sensation that filled his throat.

His eyes wandered around the room, looking at the massive curtains that were drew back over the windows that overlooked the street. To the side of him stood a grand fireplace that looked completely desolate; Sirius couldn't recall the last time it had been used.

And, of course, the admittedly beautiful, intricate tapestry of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. With a bitter smile, he admired it.

For hundreds of years, the head of the House of Black had the power to blast members who had disgraced the family's name. The sight of so many family members, people of Black blood, banished from the family was truly astounding. His gut wrenched at the idea that so many of those who were banished could have descendants living somewhere on the other side of the world. There could be dozens still alive with the blood of the Blacks flowing through their veins, yet it was likely that none of them knew. If, by some miracle, they knew of their heritage, Sirius would not be surprised to see them disregard it in favour of their new lives.

The train of thought led him to a rather startling conclusion; one that he already knew of course, but it would never cease to affect him.

He was the last surviving Black. If any others were alive, they didn't have any claim to the ownership of 12 Grimmauld Place.

One of the most ancient, powerful and grandest of families, and all that was left was him. A rebel. A disgrace. A blood traitor.

Despite the atmosphere that hung over the house, Sirius couldn't help but crack a smile. It was beyond amusing to see that he had outlived all of his pure-blood supremacist family. But as his eyes trailed down to his name, he saw another beside it.

_Regulus Arcturus Black (1961-1979)_

He felt his smile waver, lowering his head as he took a deep breath. Regulus, his little brother. Sirius had hated everything that his brother had stood for, yet unlike his parents, a small part of him had loved Regulus nonetheless. If only Regulus had been less foolish, less gullible…

_If only I had been stronger…strong enough to help him off the path that he was led to._

Regulus became enamoured with Voldemort, his ideal of purity agreeable and his power alluring. Yet after finally achieving his dream of being a Death Eater, he had gotten himself too far in and died after trying to escape.

Sirius, despite the small connection he had with Regulus, couldn't bring himself to feel the need to avenge him. There was some solace in that Regulus had tried to escape; perhaps he had realized the error of his ways in the last days of his short life. Yet Sirius was confident that his brother deserved his fate. A vile thing to say, no doubt about it, but it was true.

No, Sirius loathed what his brother had done. But he missed him regardless, even after it all. He didn't have much of an understanding of familial love, thanks to his upbringing, but whatever he felt with Regulus showed him that it was possible.

He took another gulp of the firewhisky. Groaning, he set his glass down and got up, moving towards the window. It would be a nice view, if all you wanted to do was look at the same, monotonous houses that lined the street. To Sirius, it seemed as if the entire neighbourhood had fallen with the House of Black, declining from the days when affluent muggles sought the townhouses surrounding theirs.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. There was movement near the bottom of the window. A shadow seemed to have just moved out of sight. Straining his eyes and ears, he peered closer to the edge.

The door clicked open.

_Who could it possibly be? _Dumbledore had informed the Order that the Weasleys and Harry couldn't stay because of the dark magic in the house, but the Order members had no such restrictions. Was it Nymphadora, perhaps?

Pulling his wand out of his pocket, he ran through the door to the drawing room and skidded to a halt next to the stairs. He heard the door closing. Gripping his wand tightly, he crouched and edged closer to the top of the stairs.

With his heart thudding in his chest, he leaned past the edge of the banister, looking down the stairs.

A figure stood a few steps away from the foot of the stairs, his face turned to the side as black hair hung over it. Sirius moved his wand into a more convenient position, ready to strike at any moment. Whoever this was, they didn't look like any Order members he knew.

The man's face turned, and Sirius caught a glimpse of his features for the first time. Sirius reeled back as if struck, stumbling back from his crouching position and on to his feet. The man's eyes snapped towards Sirius, and they widened. His face turned into one of absolute confusion and surprise as he too, stumbled back in shock.

Sirius couldn't think straight. As he gazed down at the man from the top of the stairs, the predominant emotion in his mind was sheer disbelief.

Because there, standing at the foot of the stairs at 12 Grimmauld Place, was one Regulus Arcturus Black.


End file.
